


So Stay With Me, Eveline

by CPFics



Series: The Muskequeers [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Genderfluid Character, Historical Inaccuracy, Multi, Trans Character, fic-ception
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1666871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CPFics/pseuds/CPFics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 1: Treville meets a beautiful woman in the Tuileries Garden<br/>Chapter 2: Aramis has a plan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doomcanary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomcanary/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Eveline](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1585655) by [doomcanary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomcanary/pseuds/doomcanary). 



> So basically what happened is I wrote a fic and then doomcanary took a bit of that fic and wrote another fic about it and now I've taken a bit of that fic and written this. Ohhh, fic-ception.
> 
> Although really, doomcanary, why you had to go and say she had a great eye for politics idk. Do you know how hard it is to write someone who's cleverer than you? XD
> 
> Title taken (edited) from Evelyn by Hurts.
> 
> The Aramis/Porthos/Athos in this fic is essentially non-existent.

Treville wandered through the Tuileries Garden, the sun on his back and his hands in his pockets. It was a warm, clear summer day, and the gardens were crowded, full of couples and families and people who, like Treville, were enjoying a day off.

He sat himself down on a bench and looked over the gardens, letting the sounds of chatter and play wash over him. A little further down the path to his left, a man was protesting the incompetence of the king, suggesting that someone more suitable should be given power instead. Treville was only half-listening to him.

At that moment a woman who was walking along the path caught Treville’s eye as she passed. She was attractive, and carried herself with the elegance of nobility, although her dress was modest. Treville found himself watching her.

She stopped when she reached the protester, and watched him for a while, listening to what he said:

“King Louis is incompetent! He came to the throne too early! He does not understand how to run a country! He is childish and petty, and we will all suffer for it!”

“Clearly, you have not been paying attention,” the woman said, and Treville leaned forward in surprise. It was certainly unusual for a woman to interrupt a man, especially on the subject of politics. “Louis’ inexperience will not ruin this country, because Louis has less power than you believe. He is under the Cardinal’s thumb. It is the Cardinal you should speak to if you have complaints about the way the country is run.”

Treville smiled. It was clear that this lady was smart, astute and politically aware. The protester did not seem to have a reply - no one would risk being caught complaining about the Cardinal - he simply half-bowed, turned, and walked away, metaphorical tail between his legs.

The woman smiled and continued on her way. In a split second decision, Treville jumped to his feet and hurried after her.

“Madame,” he called out as he neared her. She stopped and turned, a defensive expression forming on her face. He stopped, and added hurriedly:

“It’s OK, I do not come to criticise, or to tell you you should know your place, or anything like that. In fact, I wanted to tell you I was impressed.”

The woman’s expression relaxed into a smile, and she ducked her head humbly.

“My name is Jean de Treville of the King’s Musketeers,” he said, holding out his arm to her. “Perhaps we can discuss politics further as we walk?”

The woman’s smile broadened as she nodded and took his arm.

“Eveline Belrose,” she said.

They walked for a long while, chatting easily about whatever came to mind. Eventually, the conversation turned to family.

“You live alone?” Eveline asked. Treville nodded.

“I came to Paris from Gascony to earn my commission. My family reside there still. Yourself?”

Eveline shook her head.

“I have no family left to me now, for one reason or another. I know it is not considered all that acceptable for a woman to live alone, but I have had little choice.”

“Nor do you appear to be the kind of woman who pays much heed to what is considered acceptable,” said Treville. Eveline smiled wryly and shook her head. “How do you afford to live?”

“I have a modest inheritance,” she said. “And I offer my services to those who need them. Cleaning, cooking, sewing, bookkeeping…”

“A woman of many talents, then?” said Treville, and Eveline ducked her head.

Once they had completed a circuit of the gardens, Treville accompanied Eveline home.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, when they reached her front door. She smiled modestly.

“Of course,” she said. “You know where to find me now.”

“In that case, Mademoiselle Belrose, I bid you farewell,” he bent and kissed her hand.

“Until next time, Monsieur,” she said as she went inside. Treville set off back to his own apartments, whistling contentedly.

\--

Treville knocked sharply on Eveline’s door, a basket clasped in one hand, and waited, nervously checking on the ring box in his pocket for the umpteenth time since he left home. She opened it, already smiling.

“Jean!” she cried, stepping aside to let him in. When the door had closed behind him, he leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Your timing is perfect, dinner has just finished cooking.”

“I brought you something,” he said, holding out the basket. Eveline took it from him and pulled back the cloth. Inside was a freshly baked and painstakingly iced cake.

“Well, that’s good,” she said, laughing. “Because I never got round to dessert!”

They chatted as they ate, laughing and drinking. Between dinner and dessert Eveline had had to fetch a second bottle of wine, and now, as the light gradually shifted from daylight to candlelight, they were nearing the end of it.

“You must give me the address of this baker, Jean,” Eveline said to him, gesturing to their empty, cake-crumb-covered plates. “I think I’d like to sample his wares more often.”

Treville reached out and clasped her hand.

“Or maybe I could just bring them to you,” he said. “Give me another excuse to see you.”

“Jean! You don’t need excuses to come here!”

Treville grinned and, emboldened by the wine, leaned across the table to bring their lips together. Eveline hesitated only for a second, before kissing back, reaching up to rest her fingers on Treville’s cheek.

Treville stood, without breaking the kiss, and rounded the table so that it was no longer between them. He pulled Eveline towards him, and his hands went to the laces of her dress. When she did not protest, he began to pull them loose.

At last the dress dropped to the ground and Eveline stepped out of it, wearing only her shift. Treville pulled her towards him once more, kissing her deeply. His hands dropped to her waist and he dragged her hips against his.

Eveline gasped. Treville swore and stepped back as quickly as if he’d been burned.

“I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it, unable to draw his eyes away from the tenting of Eveline’s shift at her crotch.

“Jean, I can explain. I wanted to tell you before, really I did, but I didn’t know how, and-”

“When were you going to tell me?” Treville demanded. “When exactly? Because it looks to me like that moment has well and truly passed!”

“Jean, I’m sorry,” she reached her hand out to him, but he flinched away. A second later, he stormed out of the house.

Treville’s head was spinning as he strode home, barging through the crowded streets, unable to think straight. As soon as he had closed his door he snatched the ring box out of his pocket and hurled it across the room, where it hit the opposite wall and bounced back, landing dented in the middle of the floor.

He stood there for a while, breathing heavily but otherwise unmoving, staring at the box. All of a sudden, everything that had happened became clear in his head, and he dropped to his knees and wept.

By the time he stopped weeping, it was well into the early hours of the morning. Drying his face on his sleeve, he shuffled into the middle of the room and gently picked up the ring box. Although the box was badly dented, and the hinge gave when he opened it, the ring was unharmed, He pulled it out and put it back in his pocket.

He did not sleep, rather he spent the rest of the night pacing back and forth in his room, trying to straighten out in his head what he was going to say to Eveline. His reaction had been unacceptable, that much he knew, and his heart grew cold at the thought that he might have crossed a line he may never be able to cross back over.

As soon as he felt he reasonably could, he set off back towards Eveline’s house. It did not take her long to answer after he knocked. She did not react, when she saw it was him, simply waited, looking expectant, but also slightly nervous.

“Eveline, I’m so sorry,” he said. “The things I said to you last night, the way I treated you. I was just shocked, I didn’t think. I was so wrong. It was unforgivable. And yet -” he laughed dryly - “here I am, asking - begging - for your forgiveness.”

Eveline was silent for a long moment. At last, she sighed and nodded.

“You are forgiven,” she said. “Your reaction could have been an awful lot worse. Indeed, some people’s have been.”

Treville’s mouth widened into a grin with relief.

“May I come in?”

Eveline hesitated for barely a second before she stepped back. He followed her into the kitchen, where she turned to face him. He noticed their plates and wine glasses from the night before were still on the table, but he did not comment on them.

“Last night,” he said, “before… before I screwed everything up, I was… I was going to ask you to marry me.”

Eveline continued to watch him, her expression carefully blank. He swallowed, and continued.

“And, well, when I got back last night it didn’t take a huge amount of consideration for me to realise that the only thing I regretted as much as my words to you were the words I _didn’t_ say. That I had left, and not asked. Because I don’t care about… what your body’s like. Because I love you. Everything about you.”

He took the ring out of his pocket and turned it over once between his fingers. Eveline’s hand went to her mouth and her eyes shone.

“So… if I promise to love you and respect you and protect you from those few who might react even worse than I did should they find out… would you… would you be my wife?”

“Oh, Jean,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck as tears spilled from her eyes. “When you left last night, I thought I’d lost everything. I thought I’d never see you again. I thought you would tell people, and I would be forced to leave in secret.”

“Never,” promised Treville. “I would never do such a thing. You have done nothing wrong. It is I who should be ashamed, not you. And I am. I am so ashamed.”

Eveline drew back enough to kiss him. When she pulled away, she stepped back and took both of his hands in hers.

“Jean, I love you, but I… I cannot marry you. Not because of last night, not through any fault of yours, but because somewhere out there is a woman who can bear you children, with whom you can be happy and unafraid. You deserve that.”

“To Hell with what you think I deserve,” said Treville. “I don’t want another woman, I don’t want whatever children she may be able to give me. I want you!”

“I am not good enough for you.”

“Can I not decide that for myself? Don’t do this. Not to yourself, not to me. How will you ever be happy if you are convinced that you aren’t worthy of anyone who shows you love?”

“I’m sorry, Jean. It is too much to ask of anyone to take that risk for me. In your eyes and mine I may be a woman, but not in the eyes of the law. If anyone were to find out… you would be hanged with me.”

“I wouldn’t let it happen.”

Eveline shook her head. She raised her hand to stroke Treville’s cheek, and placed a gentle kiss against his lips.

“I will leave tomorrow morning. It will be easier for both of us that way.”

“No. No, Eveline, please.” Tears were glistening in Treville’s eyes now.

“Just… promise me you will come to see me off?”

“Of course,” Treville said, wrapping his hand around Eveline’s and holding it tightly. “Of course I will.”

“And do not ask me again to stay,” she whispered. Her hand, still wrapped in Treville’s, dropped from his face to his shoulder, and she let her head fall against his chest. Treville did not reply, he simply held her against him, rocking gently from side to side, placing kisses in her hair. At last, she pulled away.

“Go now,” she said. “Come back tomorrow. Nine o’clock.”

Treville brought her hand to his lips, and put the ring down on the table.

“Keep it,” he said. “Please.”

He let himself out.

\--

When Treville arrived the next morning, Eveline was already watching her trunks being loaded onto a coach. Clearly she wasn’t intending to let this drag out. Her face lit up when she saw him.

“I wasn’t sure you would come,” she said.

“Of course I came,” he said, bending to kiss her hand. “You really are leaving, then? For good? Where will you go?”

“I’m not sure yet. A small town somewhere, perhaps. Look after yourself, Jean. Allow yourself the happiness you deserve.”

“You too,” he said. She stepped forwards to gently kiss his lips, not caring who might see, before turning and walking back to the coach. She let the coachman help her up the step and close the door behind her.

Treville waved and watched her go until the coach was out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is corny, it's so corny, please forgive me.

“We’ve struck gold!” Athos announced as they walked into Aramis’ lodgings. Aramis and Porthos both immediately sat upright where they’d been leaning against the bed.

“Eveline Belrose, Rue des Castors, Chartres,” Athos read triumphantly from the paper clasped in their gloved hand.

“Chartres? That’s not too far from here. Only half a day’s ride or so,” said Aramis. Athos nodded.

“Well then,” said Porthos, easing himself to his feet. “If we get a move on we can be back by nightfall.”

They saddled up their horses and set off at once, ignoring Treville asking where they were going - he’d given them the day off, they had every right to spend the day as they pleased.

It had just gone noon when they finally pulled their horses up at the end of the Rues des Castors. Aramis tossed nir reins to Porthos and dismounted.

“Excuse me, monsieur,” ne called to the first man ne passed. “I don’t suppose you might be able to point me in the direction of the house of Mademoiselle Eveline Belrose?”

The man could, and did, and just a few minutes later Aramis was knocking at her door.

“Eveline Belrose?” he asked, when she opened it. She was indeed beautiful, but for perhaps the first time in nir life, Aramis’ mind was on bigger things.

“That’s me,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, I haven’t come on my own behalf, mademoiselle. I am a friend of Captain Jean de Treville.”

“Jean? Is he OK?”

“Don’t fret, mademoiselle, he’s quite alright. Though I think there’s a chance he maybe could be better. Can we talk inside?”

Eveline stepped back, and Aramis saw nemself through to the kitchen and sat down in one of the dining chairs. Eveline followed a second later and sat down opposite nem.

“I think I should start by letting you know that Treville has told me everything. We are not so different, you and I.”

“Why has he sent you?” she asked.

“He didn’t… send us exactly. We… thought it might be a nice surprise for him.”

“We? You did not come alone. Do the others know too?”

“My companions know nothing more than that you and the Captain have a previous acquaintance. Though I give you my word of honour that they would not judge you, were they to find out the truth.”

“So what’s the surprise?”

“You. We have come to invite you back to Paris with us.”

Eveline stood up suddenly, shaking her head.

“I can’t,” she said. “Jean is better off without me. With a family.”

“Jean never married,” said Aramis quietly. Eveline turned to him, surprised. “I don’t know that he ever even courted, after you left. He has a family of sorts, but -” ne shrugged - “it’s only us.”

Eveline lowered herself into her seat again, a hand over her mouth.

“We cannot change the decisions we made in the past,” said Aramis, guessing her thoughts. “But we can make new ones now. Treville still speaks of you fondly. He will be glad to see you.”

Half an hour later, Aramis emerged, carrying two large saddle-bags over nir shoulders. Eveline followed nervously behind. Aramis threw one saddle-bag onto Porthos’ horse and the other onto Athos’, then helped Eveline onto nir own, before swinging up behind her and taking his reins back from Porthos.

\--

It was growing dark when they returned to the garrison, and the yard was deserted. Aramis waited by the door, keeping an eye out for Treville, while the others sorted the horses. Sure enough, clearly alerted to their arrival by the horses’ hooves, Treville appeared on the balcony just a few seconds later.

“What on earth are you three doing?” he demanded. Aramis removed nir hat.

“We’ve brought someone to see you,” ne said, and stepped back, away from the door.

Eveline stepped out of the stables, and Treville’s jaw dropped. He stood dumbfounded for a second, then turned and hurried down the stairs. He stopped again at the bottom, wide-eyes flickering over every inch of Eveline as if he can’t quite believe she’s there.

Porthos and Athos came to stand at Aramis’ side. Porthos’ hand was a comforting weight on nir shoulder, and Athos’ hand squeezed nirs.

Eveline smiled shyly and stepped forward.

“Good evening, Jean,” she said.

“Eveline,” Treville breathed, and then he was running to her. When he reached her he gathered her up into his arms and spun her around. At last he placed her back on the ground, raising one hand to wipe away the tear that was glistening on her cheek. Everybody politely ignored the dampness of Treville’s own eyes.

Treville turned to Athos, Porthos and Aramis.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. Porthos and Athos nodded, Aramis bowed with a flourish.

“Goodnight, Captain,” they said in unison, and headed off in the direction of their own lodgings.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Treville told Eveline when they were finally alone.

“Aramis told me you never married,” she replied.

“There was never anyone who could compare to you.”

Eveline leaned forwards and kissed him deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Will you stay this time?” he said when they broke apart.

“If you’ll let me,” she said.

“Of course,” he said, kissing her again. “Will you marry me this time?”

Eveline laughed, dropping her head to his shoulder. She reached up to the chain around her neck and unfastened it, holding it so that the pendant slipped free of the chain and landed in her palm. Treville recognised it as the ring he had given her.

“Yes,” she said, and Treville took the ring from her hand and slipped it onto her finger.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if people actually proposed with rings in the 17th century but I wanted something physical so. Ring it is.


End file.
